


În exil, la alegere (In Exile, by Choice)

by ladybold



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Multi, Romani Character, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-13
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-14 03:35:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladybold/pseuds/ladybold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles makes a drastic decision, just as forces, natural and supernatural, are gearing for a fight...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Some changes to both canon and fanon...

**Prologue**

Even hours later, Stiles wasn't sure how he got home. He didn't remember driving himself, and as he was alone in his room when he came back to himself, there wasn't anyone around he could ask either. And then it hit him...he was alone.

No Scott. He had lost his best friend, because in some fundamental way Scott had changed, and it wasn't the werewolf. He had chosen to betray Derek, who had done all he could to make him pack, to prevent him from becoming an Omega, and Scott had done it for a girl who had hurt him and his friends over and over again.

Stiles had also lost all those dreams and fantasies of his, about him and Lydia. She was with Jackson, really REALLY with Jackson. Like she was the fairytale prince waking Jackson's Sleeping Beauty. Which was both hilarious and awful, and when Stile began laughing at the image of that, his laughter quickly turned into harsh sobs that hurt his bruised ribs and aching head.

Catching his breath before it could get too out of hand, Stiles found himself staring fixedly at the door to his room. He really was alone, and he could feel the emptiness of the house settle around him, and wondered when he had lost everything; his best friend; his easy relationship with his dad; his love/obsession. And when his life had become a horror story instead, filled with mythical creatures and monsters.

When had he become weak? The damsel in distress? He may not be a werewolf, he may have some trouble concentrating at times, but he was the one who supplied **_EVERYONE_** with information, he was the freaking _Sherlock_ of the pack, figuring things out and saving the day, (only without being an anal/quasi-sociopathic asshole). And that was the problem...he _WASN'T_ pack... Then what was he? The human loser, bullied by the Alpha, beaten by his female beta and threatened by everyone, his own best friend trying to kill him...

Shaking his head and shaking himself out of his dark thoughts, Stiles turned to look out the window and saw the lightening of the sky...a new day was soon beginning. And made a decision that was out of left field even for his scattered brain. He wasn't going to spend another day being the victim in this town.

He was leaving Beacon Hills.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

With that thought firmly fixed in his head, Stiles began to frantically plan. Stiles knew exactly where he was going, but it was several states away, and he would need more than the $15 he had in his wallet. 

His savings account, which he wasn't supposed to have access to, but did because when his dad was locked into his deepest depression he signed whatever was placed in front of him, and Stiles had needed money in which to purchase food for himself when his dad would forget. He had perhaps 3,000 dollars and that would be enough to last him awhile, until he got to his destination.

He would need to stop at a mall and get a new cell phone, one not under his own name and that used phone cards, and some camping gear, but that wouldn't eat too much into that money. Luckily, he had a quality fake ID, something he had invested in after the gay club fiasco, with some help from Miss Ivanna B. Queen, one of the drag queens he had become friends with. 

Before he did anything else he transferred his contacts, phone and email, to a micro SD disk, something that would fit into most phones but could be used in a computer as well, but wasn't going to pack up his laptop, knowing his dad would find a way to turn on the GPS and track him. Besides his destination wasn't likely to have Wi-Fi or much in the way of Internet service at all.

He would need to get another vehicle. His jeep was too recognizable and his dad would have its description and plates out in an APB before he had made it halfway to his stopping point and that wouldn't work. So a stop to a used car lot with a shady reputation was in order, and he looked up several on the Internet before clearing his Internet history and then resetting his computer to its factory settings.

Clothes were easy; he piled his things into the old police duffel that his dad had lent him for his lacrosse gear before he had bought him a new one for his birthday last year. They were clean, but he added a handful of Tide laundry packs and a few sheets of dryer sheets into a side pocket. He gathered together all of his quarters, stashed in a large jar in his desk drawer, then placed them in the pocket as well. Lastly, he thought he should maybe make a stop at a grocery store once he had left Beacon Hills. 

Finally, his letter...he may have felt beyond done with everything in Beacon Hills, up to his own father, but he would never dream to leave without some sort of word, some sort of reassurance or placating gesture.

_Dad,_  
 _I'm not sure when you will get this...when you will get home,_  
 _or think to look in for me. I don't have high expectations, to_  
 _be honest, but I couldn't leave without some sort of goodbye_.  
 _Don't think I haven't thought this through, I am the son of a_  
 _Lawman, and know what to do, to not be found, at least for_  
 _awhile. I will be safe, and will call within the week._  
 _Stiles_

He propped the note on his neatly made bed, up against the pillows, and closed the door softly, padding down to the kitchen and then out the front door. And then he was gone. Packed his jeep with his duffel and was gone down the highway before the sun had reached the tops of the trees.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Stiles might have been surprised at how quickly he was missed. But he wasn't there to be surprised, and that was the problem._

An hour, maybe two, after Stiles' jeep had crossed the border into Oregon, maybe only three hours after he had made his decision and his father was dragging himself through the door. He had noted that his sons' jeep was missing from the drive, but still called loudly, “STILES?!” 

Janek Stilinski, or Jon as he was now called, had just dragged himself away from a scene out of a horror movie. Multiple bodies, torn to pieces, had been found in a warehouse by the river on the south side of town. And Jon was terrified. Because he recognized something on one of the bodies, a tattoo he hadn't seen in years. The tattoo he had run from when he was a young man, and it meant that the past he had so valiantly fought against was making its way into his present. What did that mean for his own son? 

No sound echoed through the house, other than the sound of his own voice. But to be sure he took the steps up to the second floor two at a time. Barely knocking at his sons' door, something that would have infuriated Stiles had he seen it, he barged in and stopped on a dime. 

In an instant he knew. Even without the lone scrap of paper fluttering in the breeze brought on by the door opening, Jon knew his son was GONE. Not out at school, not at Scott's or some other friends house, no...his son had run. And in that instant, the elder Stilinski wasn't sure whether he was relieved or not. 

**Across town:**

It was not the ideal arrangement, but Derek didn't see much choice, as he had several things going on all at once. So Peter would get to live for a few more days at least. 

First, there were the problems of Scott betraying him publicly, blatantly, which made Scott an Omega, a rogue wolf in Derek's territory. Then his missing betas, Erica and Boyd, who despite their seeming betrayal, he could see that they were only scared and with everything else, he hadn't done his job to make them feel secure and that was his wrong, not theirs. 

An Alpha pack was threatening his territory and his pack-mates. And then the issue of the missing body of Gerard Argent, whom he didn't for a moment believe was truly dead. Finally the resurrection of Jackson Whittemore...that in retrospect was likely the easiest thing to fix. 

It was simply a matter of bringing in Melissa McCall and Sheriff Stilinski. Melissa claims that she administered a drug, at the behest of the Sheriff, to make it appear that Jackson was dead. The reasoning behind Jackson's supposed death, was that he was being threatened by drug dealers and the Sheriff had come up with a daring plan that would flush them out and save Jackson at the same time. The supposed drug dealers were also behind the grizzly “animal” attacks, even the deaths at the police station, as a way to terrorize Jackson. 

The plan meant bringing the Sheriff into the pack, but it was something that would bring Stiles closer to the pack and that was a easy win as far as Derek was concerned. It tied the young man further to the pack and its protections, and also placed that same protection on the Sheriff, which would likely endear his pack to Stiles, which was worth it if the rumors of the Alpha pack were true. A pack needed members who were more brains than brawn, too. And if this also drew in Scott, who despite his betrayal, was a strong werewolf, that was just more benefits for the pack. 

Laying out his plan for Peter and Isaac, he was surprised to see the surprise on his uncle’s face. Cocking a brow at the older man at his blatant awe, Derek moved into his face.   

“Did you think I was stupid?” Derek growled lowly. “I knew I was reacting rather that acting, recently, but from the first I haven't really had much choice. You...you killing Laura...forced this path. So now I have a moments breath and I am making decisions, based on the situation I have been forced into.” 

Peter had the good grace to look away from the Alpha stare that was focused on him, and then stunned the younger man by baring his throat in submission, willingly giving up his power in that one moment. His submission to his nephew, in front of Isaac, was humble and well done of him. And in that moment, Derek knew he would win in any fight against the older man. 

Peter knew that in submitting he was acknowledging what he had done was against everything the Hale family had stood for, and he in turn would forever pay his penance by supporting his nephew’s pack. He would do it in his own way, however. 

“I never thought you particularly stupid...just oblivious.” Peter said, calmly straightening from his submissive posture of a moment before. Isaac snorted a laugh, and it instantly broke the rising tension in the room, as Derek looked at his uncle in surprise. 

“Can we get on with it, then? Your plan seems viable and it puts Jackson firmly in our camp, as well as Lydia...and of course, Stiles.” Peter was determined to be as snarky and irreverent with his Alpha as he could, after all he had partially raised Derek and knew just the way to take the wind out of the boys sails. 

Isaac snorted again, after looking at the snarky look on the older mans face, knowing he was poking at the Alpha, which was like deliberately poking at a rabid bear, but not being able to help the humor that burst forth. Derek swiftly transferred his incredulous gaze to the teenager, who backed up quickly, but unable to stifle his laughter. Derek swung his gaze to his uncle and snorted himself...this was too ridiculous. 

And that was the point that Derek decided that Peter would live...he needed all the family/pack he could muster, after all. That was his story and he was sticking to it...


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

It wouldn’t have surprised Stiles at all to find out that Scott hadn’t called for him or noticed he was missing at all until the Sheriff had called his house and spoken with his mother. In the last year it had become obvious to Stiles that his friendship with Scott had become decidedly one-sided. It was a surprise to Melissa McCall and to Stiles’ dad, however. 

“When was the last time you spoke to Stiles?” Jon asked the young man, striving to maintain his calm. 

Scott shrugged his shoulders and yawned hugely. “Maybe last night? It’s a bit of a jumble…I got home really late last night, Allison and I broke up and I took a long walk after that.” His tone was sad and his eyes resembled those of a puppy, but Jon was quickly losing his temper at the young man. 

“So after he was beaten up at the lacrosse game, and went missing for HOURS, you THINK you spoke to him last night?” The Sheriff’s voice was full of scorn and his glare at the young man was vivid. 

Scott jerked his head up in shock at the tone, and looked to his mother for guidance, but she was clearly disappointed with him. “I just…there was, well a lot going on last night. I saw him but we didn’t really talk, I mean, he was there with me and the oth…and we had to have talked…right?” 

Jon immediately latched on to Scotts' hesitation. “Who else was with you?” 

Scott looked panicked, unsure as to how to answer. “ Uh…Allison? And, uhm, well, her dad?” 

Jon looked at Scott with anger in his eyes. “STOP LYING TO ME! Who else was there with you and Stiles? Who were the OTHERS?” 

Melissa stood then, and put her hand on Scott’s shoulder, and gave him a shake. “Scott, tell him…everything. Stiles is missing, and Jon just wants to make sure he is safe.” 

Scott looked his mother in the eye and mouthed “EVERYTHING?”, and she just nodded, tiredness leaking from every pore. 

“Yes, Scott, tell me everything. Stiles, your best friend since 2nd grade, is missing, and there is more to this than anything you may suspect. Now…where were you last night and who else was there?” 

And then Scott told Jon, everything. And while Jon's eyes widened, he seemed to focus more on what Scott WASN'T saying, than on what he was, and to Melissa's surprise, didn't seem horrified by her son's transformation, nor even a bit worried about the claws and fangs. 

“Scott, what the hell were you thinking?! You declared yourself OMEGA?! In front of HUNTERS?!” Melissa was bellowing at her son, who looked shocked at her vitriol and volume. 

“Uhm…yes?” 

“So you want to be killed like the one you saw in the woods? Cut in half?” 

“NO! No, of course not! Mom, it was the only way…” 

“No, Scott it wasn’t. You should have gone to Derek, he was going to provide you with training, with the protection of his pack, and with knowledge about your new life…and instead you decided to betray him, work for a madman, and put yourself and your friends, including STILES and ALLISON, in grave danger, because you had NO BACKUP…” Melissa turned away from her son in disgust. “Scott…you are not stupid…before this werewolf thing, you were getting excellent grades…but…this was so stupid!” 

Jon watched this argument in silence, though his face betrayed that he totally agreed with Melissa’s take on the topic. Scott turned to face his mother, shocked at her take on things. 

“I DON’T WANT TO BE A WEREWOLF! I want to be NORMAL! And Derek took that away from me!” 

“No Scott he didn’t. From your own words, he said it was a possibility, and there was also a possibility that if you killed Peter YOU would have become an Alpha, and you have no training, no discipline and no desire to be so. So you would have likely gone FERAL…and killed a bunch of people in all likelihood.” Jon interjected finally. 

Scott looked stunned to hear this…like the idea had never occurred to him. 

“But, I want to be with Allison, and…” 

“And Allison Argent is a HUNTER…her aunt killed an ENTIRE family, and her grandfather was a psycho who would have done the same in a heartbeat. And you had no backup on this brilliant plan and if he had figured your plan out, you would have died, so would Allison, Jackson, Lydia…STILES…and what would have happened? He would have become an Alpha, because he would have killed Derek, who had no idea what was even happening!” Jon was yelling at the boy now, and Melissa looked like she wanted to join in. 

Scott turned on the two parents, his eyes glowing a sulfuric yellow, teeth gaining points, and hair growing quickly on his face and arms, while his clenched hands hid away his claws. Melissa gasped and stepped to stand behind the Sheriff, while Jon stood his ground silently. 

Scott growled lowly. “I just wanted to be free from THIS!” 

Jon gulped, but didn’t stop standing his ground. “Free from being stronger and healthier, no more asthma, co-captain of the lacrosse team. Free from THAT?” 

Scott jerked away from Jon. Shocked again by Jon and his mother not wanting the same things that he had. Then he flashed back to a conversation with Dr. Deaton, just weeks ago. 

_“Scott, did you ever consider that there was a specific reason you were made into a werewolf? Not just that Peter Hale was crazy, but that he saw something in you that would benefit his pack...or that you would benefit from something that the pack could provide?”_

And suddenly he wasn't as sure of his position as he had thought only moments before.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Since the closest city to Beacon Hills was Crescent City, Stiles knew he should go over the border into Oregon before selling his jeep. His dad was friends with too many of the law enforcement people in Crescent City, it made him nervous to even be driving through the town on his way to Oregon but the highway led him straight through. 

His next stop was Brookings, in Oregon, which was less than an hour from Crescent City, and 101 Auto Sales, just off the highway. Within an hour he had traded in the jeep for a used, but in decent condition, 1992 Mazda Miata, in a strange matte Army green. The dealer hadn't been able to push the car on anyone else, and was willing to do a straight trade, just to get the car off his hands. Which meant there was more money in Stiles pocket for other necessities, though it was truly heartbreaking to be leaving his beloved Jeep behind. 

After that it was a short trip to a strip mall that had a Radio Shack, where he picked up a Verizon no-contract phone, a Samsung Illusion, which wasn't as good as his old one, but was still able to do what he needed. He quickly loaded his contacts into the phone and made sure to shut off his old phone, removing the battery so that the phone couldn't be turned on without him knowing. It was helpful that he only had to pay 150.00 for the phone and $50 for a month of service, again more money for the trip. 

His next stop in Brookings was a camping store, only 3 shops down from the Radio Shack. There he picked up a tent, a 3 person that would fit him perfectly. A double-wide sleeping bag and two small travel pillows, and 3 camping mattress pads that when piled on-top of each other were comfortable enough for the road. 

Lastly, he made a stop at a local grocery store, stocking up on travel food. This mostly consisted of beef jerky and pop-tarts, but he also managed to get some somewhat healthy things, like lunch meat, cheese and bread as well as an all natural trail mix, and a bunch of water. He stashed everything in the throwaway cooler he bought, along with some ice. Then he crammed everything into the much smaller trunk of his new vehicle, or into the passenger seat and turned his car to the interstate. 

He took his directions from the Google maps printout he had made at home. In less than a weel, he would be in his final destination, and all he could do was hope that there he would find answers. Next stop...Las Vegas. 

**Hale House:**

Isaac was the first to hear the engine, but that had more to do with him being outside and closer to the road than the others. He jetted back to the burnt shell of a house the Hale men couldn't help but call home, and found them both on the porch, looking out at the drive. He knew they had heard the car, but as he turned to see who it was, he knew they were ALL surprised to see the Sheriff's car pull in front of the building. 

John stepped out of his car, after taking a long, deep look at the three men who stood before him. Raising his hands out of the car, as if he were the fugitive, John exited fully and faced the three werewolves. 

Derek moved to stand protectively in front of Issac, who whimpered fearfully at the sight of the Sheriff, but managed to remain calm otherwise. Derek looked questioningly at the Sheriff, before taking a brief glance at Peter who shrugged and both turned back to the Sheriff who was watching them both very carefully. 

“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” Derek asked, cautiously. 

It took a moment for the Sheriff to reply, Derek could see him formulate answers and then discard them quickly, but then the Sheriff made a motion with one of his hands, asking without words if he could come closer. Derek hesitated, but finally nodded. 

As the Sheriff made his way toward them, Derek noticed him noticing the graffiti on the front door of the Hale house. He started and his face lost some color, and Derek who had been listening to Stiles' heartbeat for months now, heard that same stutter-start that the man's son would do, in the much older man. 

“I guess I should have introduced myself, years ago,” the older man started, causing all three werewolves to glance at each other in puzzlement. “My name is Janek Argintari Stilinski. I am Rroma, of the Argintari clan of Romania, though we emigrated to the US by way of Poland. My wife was Seda Bosha, a Rroma from Armenia. My child is Zarmayr, named for his maternal grandfather, the leader of the Bosha in the US. My wife was the seer of her tribe, as I was the enforcer of mine, and we were wed against the wishes of my tribal leader, a man who was known for his skills in hunting the creatures we called the Priculici, or werewolves.”


End file.
